


Cruel, Cruel World

by obsessedwithstabler



Category: Psych, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship/Love, M/M, Romance, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 10:40:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18548140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessedwithstabler/pseuds/obsessedwithstabler
Summary: Finally she eased him carefully to the ground, her hands shaking and knees weak. “Let me see…” She grabbed the flashlight and her cellphone, ready to call for help. There was so much blood. She hit the home button and swore in frustration as she realized she had no service. She would have to get back to their car, which was at least two miles away. Dropping the phone, she returned her focus to Carlton.A painful loss, an unfulfilled duty, and three mysterious men blur the line between what Juliet O'Hara knows is true and what she desperately needs.





	Cruel, Cruel World

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little oneshot inspired by the song Cruel World, by Active Child, and somewhat inspired by an episode of Bones, The Hero in the Hold. There is a major character death mentioned, and this is pre-Lassiet. Also, three characters from another show close to my heart make a small guest cameo. Enjoy.
> 
> Also, a huge thanks goes to Loafer for lending a hand (against her will) with Lassiter. I still love you anyway.
> 
> Disclaimer: not mine!

XXXXXX

Juliet O'Hara well and truly hated the woods.

She hadn't been very fond of camping as a young girl, and while she did enjoy the occasional walk in nature, she still could not stomach camping. And then there was that awful weekend just a few years ago when she had nearly lost her best friend.

Now they were standing in the woods together once more, looking for signs of the deranged man they were after. They had been searching for James Ellis for the better part of the month, after witnessing the carnage he had created in his own home. In cold blood he had murdered his wife and their three young children, making this case deeply more personal for herself and Carlton.

She knew very well he had been losing sleep over this. She had as well. More than once they had stayed at their desks long past midnight, taking turns bringing each other coffee as they worked to understand this brutality. He had all but ripped his children apart, and his poor wife… How could anyone do that to someone they claimed to love?

Then she thought of Shawn and her stomach flipped painfully.

She had loved him.

The light from her flashlight danced over the mossy ground, shaking ever so slightly. She could hear Carlton breathing beside her, reminding her that she wasn't as alone as she thought.

Focus, Juliet. Focus.

Then everything went to shit.

There was almost no warning. Just the subtle shift in the air before a shadowed figure lunged at them, knocking Juliet to the ground and taking Carlton with it. Juliet immediately unholstered her weapon and took aim, but it was too dark to squeeze off a shot without risking hitting Carlton. She scrambled to her knees, heart pounding.

"Ellis! Let him go!" Her voice reverberated through the forest in stark contrast to the quiet that had filled her ears just minutes before.

A cold voice chuckled, "I don't think so."

An agonizing scream and the sound of ripping flesh made bile rise in Juliet's throat. Her fingers finally gripped the flashlight and she swung it up along with her glock. Her finger tightened around the trigger as cackles escaped Ellis's lips.

Her aim was true.

Ellis dropped to the ground, blood and brain matter coating the tree behind him. Juliet shoved her gun back into its holster before she lunged forward for her partner. He slumped into her arms but her body was on autopilot already. She dragged him a safe distance from Ellis's body, murmuring assurances to him as they moved.

"You're okay, Carlton. You're okay. I've got you."

Finally she eased him carefully to the ground, her hands shaking and knees weak. "Let me see…" She grabbed the flashlight and her cellphone, ready to call for help. There was so much blood. She hit the home button and swore in frustration as she realized she had no service. She would have to get back to their car, which was at least two miles away. Dropping the phone, she returned her focus to Carlton. "Hey. Let me see…"

With hands that she forced to be steady, she held the flashlight with one and opened Carlton's suit jacket with the other. The gaping wound in his chest wrenched a sharp cry from her and immediately she yanked her own jacket off and folded it before shoving it to the wound to staunch the blood loss. "Carlton? Listen to me. We have to stop the bleeding." She pressed her left hand firmly against his chest. Then she cupped his cheek in her right hand, barely making out his features in the limited glow provided by the flashlight.

"You'd better make sure he's dead, O'Hara. I'm gonna kick his ass when we meet up again." His breathing was labored, the words hard to make out.

"And if you think I won't follow you over to kick your ass if YOU die, you're wrong."

He managed a smile. "Bring it. You've always been like heaven to me, so I'm ready for hell."

Shaking her head, she smoothed his hair back. "You need to stop talking." Pulling her hand away, she grabbed his hand and held it where she wanted. "Keep the pressure. I'm not going to let you die on me."

"Not up to you."

"Like hell it's not." She grabbed her phone and shoved it into her pocket. Then she bent down and pressed her lips to his forehead. "The car is two miles from here. I'll call for help the second I have service."

"Stop talking and start walking," he manages.

"Don't you dare die on me," she repeated, hesitating only a moment before she rested her forehead against his. "I'm coming back." Then, before he could protest, she pressed her lips to his.

"You don't play fair."

"I know." She kissed him again before reluctantly pushing herself to her feet. Then, before she could change her mind, she began running back toward the path that had led them to that spot.

She wasn't going to let him die.

XXXXX

Dean Winchester hated rugarus.

He fucking hated them.

And of course they had found a nest of them in California, leading him, Sammy, and Cas to track the bastards down. It had taken a couple of days, but Sam was convinced that they only had two more to kill, then they were on their way back to the bunker and some pie.

Of course things could never go to plan.

"Help! Someone, help us!"

Dean immediately looked at his brother and they began running in the direction of the voice. Of fucking course.

Suddenly they came across a clearing, and two bodies. There was blood everywhere, and Sam grimaced at the sight of brain matter. "Shit…" That guy was beyond help, so they moved to the second prone form. Sam crouched on one side while Dean took the other.

Castiel walked slowly to them, his expression solemn. "This was no rugaru. It was...human."

Sam pressed his fingertips to the man's neck. "Dean, I can't find a pulse."

"Help him!"

All three heads whipped around to see a young man in jeans, a t-shirt, and a seashell necklace. Dean and Sam both rested their hands on their guns and Dean spat out, "What the fuck happened here?"

Cas narrowed his eyes and moved closer to Dean and Sam. "He's not human. He's a spirit."

"And you're a racist," the ghost snapped back. "Yeah, I'm living-impaired, but that guy there...he's like, my pseudo-mentor or friend. And there's a very beautiful woman running to her car right now to try to call for help." He jabbed a finger in Castiel's direction. "I know what you are. Help him!"

Sam and Dean exchanged confused looks as Castiel seemed to go into a trance, eyes open and unblinking.

"Cas?" Dean rose up, reaching toward the angel. "Hey, what-"

"Don't interrupt him!" The ghost's voice was bordering frantic as he waved a hand in Dean's direction. "C'mon, wings. She can't lose him, too."

Nearly a minute went by before Cas finally moved, making Dean let out a relieved sigh. He walked over to the dead man and bent over, holding his hand over the body. Blue light surrounded them and the ghost stared in desperation.

Air rushed back into the revived man's lungs and the ghost appeared beside Sam. "Lassie? Come on, man. Breathe!"

Dean's hand settled on Cas's shoulder as Sam checked the guy's pulse again.

"It's faint, but it's there," he finally said, settling back on the balls of his feet. "Good job, Cas."

"I felt his soul. It's...strong."

The ghost looked between them before looking back to his friend. "You have a soul, Lassie?"

With a small shake of his head, Cas covered Dean's hand with his own. "He is fortunate we were here. There is something his soul is pulled toward." He recognized the pull. He felt the same pull keeping him at Dean's side.

"Son of a bitch, Spencer, I can't even die without you ruining it."

He still looked dead, except for a faint scowl. The ghost looked smug.

"Listen, Lassie, there's something you have to do for me."

"The hell I do," he groaned.

"The hell you DO," the ghost insisted.

Dean interrupted. "Do you need us?"

Sam shushed him. "I wanna hear this."

Spencer ignored the other two men and snapped his fingers in front of Lassiter's face. "Focus on me, Lassie. Juliet will be back soon with help and you have to do this for me."

Sam gave his brother a pointed look. They both understood. This Spencer was tethered to earth somehow, and hopefully he was about to say how he could be helped.

"Juliet. You gotta take care of her. She...she's been a total wreck, and if you go and die on her, it'll destroy her."

"The hell are you talking about?" Lassiter clenched his jaw as his eyes tried to focus.

"Shut up, I'm telling you. You know I love her, man. But you... you're the one she needs. And I'm not just saying that because I'm temporarily out of the running."

Dean rolled his eyes. Sam shushed him again.

"Don't mock, Dean," Cas said gently. "You've been temporarily out of the running a few times yourself."

"Who the hell are you guys, and Spencer- I saw you die. Didn't I?"

"Yeah, yeah, but we don't have time for a full recap. Look. Take care of Jules. Be there for her. You understand?"

Spencer's expression turned disturbingly serious as his visage flickered. "Tell me you understand, Lassie. And tell Jules..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "No, don't tell her anything. You're going to make it better for her. I know you will."

Cas couldn't resist looking to Dean and gripping his shoulder.

"I...?"

Spencer sighed in frustration. "It's my mission, Lassie. The only way I'll be able to move on is to know she's taken care of."

"You've been here, a spirit," Sam said softly.

"Yeah, moose man. I can't move on, not until I know she's okay and I helped Lassie."

"So you don't need us, then," Dean repeated, because if he reacted to Cas he'd be a goner. Sam shushed him a third time.

Lassiter struggled to get up, and Cas held him down. A frustrated growl escaped him.. "Spencer. I'm not.. I...You're really dead," he finally managed.

"Try to keep up, Lassie. Look, we don't have much time before she gets back here."

"She just left-"

"It's been a half hour. You understand what you need to do?"

Lassiter nodded shakily as Cas held him still, and Spencer looked relieved. "Good man. She's coming now."

As he finished the sentence, Juliet came barreling through the surrounding trees. She was filthy and sweating in spite of the cool air.

Seeing the unfamiliar men surrounding her partner made Juliet grab her gun. "Get away from him!" she barked in a voice Lassiter had never heard from her. She was ready to kill, there was no doubt.

Slightly amused by the threat, Cas acquiesced and grabbed Sam and Dean.

"Who are you?" she demanded, the gun unwavering.

"Cool your jets," Dean said. "We're friends."

"O'Hara," Lassiter said, and her attention was immediately riveted to him.

"Carlton..." She never lowered her gun as she made her way to them. Without hesitation she put herself between Lassiter and the three strange men. Her gun remained trained on the man who had initially been holding Lassiter down.

"They're okay," Lassiter said. "I don't know how I know that, but they're okay. Spencer-" he cut himself short.

The last word didn't seem to register with Juliet. She didn't take her eyes off of the trio. "Help is coming, Carlton. Don't move."

"He's all right," Cas said. "Just weak."

This pissed her off. She knew how close to death her partner was. "Shut up," she advised him.

Lassiter grasped her hand. "O'Hara." He tried to sit up and when she attempted to stop him he shook his head. "I'm okay."

"We'll be going now," Dean said. When Sam started to shush him he fired off a glare which shushed Sam instead. "Now," he repeated.

Juliet was beyond confused. She'd had no expectation beyond wild hope that Lassiter would be alive when she returned. Now he was sitting up and-she cut off her own train of thought and reached for his jacket to see the wound.

While she was distracted, Cas whisked Dean and Sam away, leaving Juliet alone with her injured partner.

Juliet held the flashlight carefully and looked at the wound. Was it...smaller? It was still bleeding and she quickly covered it again before looking over her shoulder, but the men were gone.

Confused but unable to bring herself to care, Juliet looked back to Lassiter in time to see him waver. She maneuvered him into her arms, letting him rest against her. "I've got you..." She pressed her jacket firmly against his chest.

By the time help arrived, Lassiter was unconscious again, his head lolling against Juliet's shoulder. Juliet was frazzled and snapped at the medics when she had to surrender her injured partner to them.

With the treacherous path and lack of clear lighting, Lassiter was settled onto a stretcher and carefully strapped down. The ambulance was two miles away and Juliet walked every inch of it beside her partner.

The trip was long and arduous, but when the lights of the ambulance and multiple police cars came into view, Juliet finally let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She waited for the medics to load Carlton into the ambulance, then followed them in. She had no intention of letting go of him until she absolutely had to.

She had not been afforded that luxury with Shawn.

Settling beside Carlton's head, she carefully ran her fingers through his thick hair. The engine roared to life and soon they were racing down the highway, sirens blaring. Her azure eyes remained steadfastly on her partner's pale face. How was he still alive?

Her hand continued to stroke his hair gently, the movement letting her lose all track of time as the medics worked around her. And when they finally reached the hospital, she tried to follow him as far as she was allowed. But eventually she was stopped, a door closed in her face by an apologetic nurse. She stared at the door for some time before reluctantly seeking out the closest waiting room.

She wasn't alone for long. Soon Vick found her, then McNab, and eventually even Gus and Henry. Juliet didn't know what to say to them. What could she possibly say? Shawn had been gone for two years and sometimes the loss felt so new it ached.

Tonight she had almost lost Carlton as well.

A low, broken sound escaped her as she hit her knees.

Please, God, don't take him too.

XXXXX

Dawn was approaching when Juliet was finally allowed into her partner's room. His doctors confirmed that severe damage had been done with the knife wielded by Ellis, and by their accounts Carlton should have been dead.

But he wasn't.

He was breathing, resting, as she slowly approached his bed. Her eyes raked over him, drinking him in. He was alive. Badly injured, but alive.

She would take that and count herself incredibly lucky.

Finally she was at his side. A light blanket covered him, but she could see the thick dressing covering the knife wound in his chest. Her breathing hitched as she leaned down and lightly touched her lips to his temple.

At the contact, he let out a little sigh. Juliet half-hoped he might wake up, but when he didn't she settled in the chair beside his bed. Filthy, exhausted, and beyond her breaking point, she toed off her shoes and tucked her legs underneath herself. Then she laid her hand on his arm, desperately needing the contact.

The last thought she had before sleep claimed her was of how warm and alive he felt under her hand.

XXXX

Everything hurt.

Lassiter let out a soft groan as he clawed his way back to consciousness. His chest ached and his head felt like someone was beating it with a hammer. Strangely, the only thing that didn't hurt was his arm. No, there was a soft, soothing warmth there, and it took some time for his medication-clouded mind to process what he was feeling.

Juliet was beside him, her slender frame curled up in one of those crappy hospital chairs. Her beautiful face was twisted in concern, even in sleep, and it was her hand on his arm that was causing the soothing warmth.

Then reality came back to him. That piece of crap Ellis had nearly ripped his chest open. And those men… Spencer…

Shawn had died two years ago, leaving Juliet an utter wreck after the accident that had claimed his life. There was no way he had been in the forest with him.

There was also no way on God's green earth he should have survived that stab wound.

He had died.

He knew it.

Take care of her for me, Lassie.

The words rang clearly in his mind, just as if Shawn were sitting beside him now.

Suddenly Juliet shifted, her grip tightening on Lassiter's forearm. "No...please…"

His breath caught in his chest and he ached to reach out to her. But his body simply wouldn't cooperate.

"No...Carlton!"

She was crying out for him. The thought shook him to his very core and he managed to grasp her hand in what he hoped was a reassuring touch.

"I'm here, Juliet." His voice was hoarse and barely recognizable to his own ears.

A tear slid down Juliet's flushed cheek but he felt her begin to relax. He could feel sleep pulling at him, willing him back into the healing darkness. But he didn't let go of her hand. Not yet.

"I'm not going to leave you." He gave her hand a tight squeeze as the darkness finally dragged him under and his eyes closed.

"Never…"

XXXX

After beginning her shift, Clarissa began making her rounds on the floor. Her second patient of the day was a man named Carlton Lassiter, and she had been appraised of his unique situation. The hospital had an excellent relationship with the Santa Barbara PD, one that allowed the medical staff to turn a blind eye when police officers stayed with their injured partners. She had been informed that Mr. Lassiter's partner was a Detective Juliet O'Hara, and as predicted she found Detective O'Hara sleeping beside her patient's bed.

She was not expecting a third person to be sitting in the chair opposite Juliet. Her eyes narrowed, but before she could speak the man waved his hand.

"I'm just checking on them, nurse. I'll be heading out now." He rose from the chair, casting a final, wistful glance at the sleeping detective.

Clarissa regarded the man carefully, his seashell necklace catching her eye. "But-"

He shot her a grin as he slipped out of the room, leaving her with the two sleeping detectives.

A sense of ease settled over her as she began checking Carlton's vital signs. He was a friend, no doubt there to make sure that Carlton was healing and Juliet was resting.

Right?

Of course.

As she finished, Juliet stirred and leaned over, resting her head on Carlton's arm. For a moment Clarissa entertained the thought of rousing her so that she could get some proper sleep in her own bed. But then she watched her patient settle a large hand on the top of Juliet's head, and she thought better of waking either of them.

Clearly they were fine, and she had other patients to tend to. She made a mark on Carlton's chart, then turned the light off before slipping back out of the room to let them continue to rest in quiet.

Finis


End file.
